^^Found even more creepy Daveigh Chase gifs :>
it's April, so the name of this character can finally be ironic :O
SOTC: song like you — Bea Miller
• make me feel like there is nothing outside this room •
When Carl woke up, he almost didn't remember.
It held for a second. A clear, crisp bubble of thoughtlessness, a kind of lightness. A puddle in a street gutter, seconds before a car knives through it.
But his mattress felt a little too hard, and his face tetherless.
He opened his eye, and the bed was swathed in blood.
Streaks and blots of red against the white of his sheets, layering on top of each other like autumn shrubbery. Carl brought a hand to his face, and felt a tacky gathering of blood on his cheek, still warm from where it dribbled slowly from his empty socket.
And as the details came back to him, they came leeched dry of emotion, leaving the taste of bland cud in his mouth. The images of Glenn's and Abraham's bashed-in skulls, leaking guts all mixed with dirt and grime and mud. He clenched a fist in his lap, nails buried in his palms.
But what hurt even more, it was that he had no way to see his friends, his dad, his sister. He had no control over this whole shitstorm, and the rage welled up in his chest like fire.
His gaze lingered to the foot of his cot, where there was a small pile of medical supplies. Gauze and bandages and medical tape.
Maybe it was a little surprising that she had actually fulfilled her promise. Maybe Carl couldn't possibly imagine such a force of nature bothering to get something for him.
He couldn't trust it.
"Jesus Christ on a motorcycle, he's finally awake!"
Carl's head whipped to where she was standing, holding an omnipresent cup of coffee, makeup viciously immaculate. Can makeup be viciously immaculate? Maybe that was description reserved only for assholes like April.
She rolled her eyes, taking a swig. "Come on. We're leaving once you get your eye covered up, and all that fuckery."
Carl hadn't bothered chewing the words before letting them fall out his mouth. "Where are we leaving to?"
April breathed a sarcastic laugh. "Congratulations! You're our lucky customer! You've won an interview with a super-special mystery guest!"
He turned to the ground, mouth set in a thin line. He wouldn't play this game.
If he was seeing Negan, he was seeing Negan. He vowed to keep his horizon as clear as possible, even if that meant pushing the denial out of himself. Even if that meant accepting that fact that he would walk out of that room having lost something.
April gave a smug curve of her lips. "Bingo, motherfucker."
♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛
He heard the growls before she even opened the door. Walker growls. The kinds of growls he'd grown so accustomed to, but here felt so alien.
Light flooded out, and he was surrounded by snarls and yelling all around him as April led him out onto the deck. It was cold that morning, and the chill snuck up Carl's spine and grazed over the nape of his neck. Wind battered at his hat, and a hand flew up to keep it in place.
April placed both elbows on the yellow guard rail, looking down with what looked like pride, or nostalgia. She gestured for him to come.
Carl was presented with such a view that made his mouth almost hang open in awe. Not a kind of awe that made people want to take pictures, to have picnics or wait until sunset to capture the perfect moment.
No, this kind of awe was grotesque. Horrifying. He wanted to shrink back into the wall.
Spread out before him were chain-link fences, walkers, and men in baggy sweatshirts. Hundreds of them, clustered in any feasible way, constantly shifting like an acre-wide ocean. If Carl squinted, he could make out spray-painted letters on each sweatshirt, but not before the sight of a man tearing a walker's arm off, skin snapping and releasing moldy curls of flesh and rotten muscle.
"This is where..." She trailed off. "Where most of my playthings spend their first couple weeks."
Carl bit his lip, gaze still enraptured within the gruesome sight. What were these people even doing? Working? It seemed as if they were simply juggling around, walker to walker, with no known goal in sight.
He noticed a man with long, stringy hair shove a walker into a spike, thoroughly impaling it. Blood splattered his front, across his face, and he smeared it absentmindedly off his forehead. The man's eyes kept nodding up towards where Carl and April stood, eyeing the two of them like one might eye an ugly wound.
Something seemed so familiar about this man, but Carl couldn't place it. Half of his vision was gone, and with it, he wasn't able to see intricacies much farther than an arms length away.
"Aren't you lucky I got you out of that?" She shifted her stance, letting her hands rest in her cargo jacket pockets. Lips still quirked into a smile. "It teaches gratefulness, but it sure doesn't teach back a limb or two."
The man was staring at Carl. The familiarity itched at his skull. He sure hoped that it wasn't someone he cared about, because the horrors of this job seemed more hellish than he would wish on anyone. Save, two people.
"Come on, you ungrateful weirdass." April swept back towards the Sanctuary door. "Gotta go before Dad gets impatient."
Carl inwardly cringed, then followed her back into the depths. That is, not without looking over his shoulder another time, searching for something far away, yet too close to fathom.
♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛
They came upon the door. It was similar to April's, with gold paint and a pretentiously lustrous knocker. What was it about this family and being as flamboyant as possible?
April brought a hand to knock. Carl braced himself, trying to reconcile his emotions with the chills running up his spine. Then, without notice, she withdrew her hand.
Gripping Carl's hand so much it stung, she pulled him aside, out of earshot of the door. She brought her lips so close to his ear that he feared they'd touch, her warm breath on his skin.
"Act nice," she hissed. "I promise he won't bash in your pretty face, that's not something he would do. Not at this point, y'see."
He stood perfectly still, breath hitched in his throat. "But if you stay quiet, then it won't be at any point."
A moment passed, where there was nothing between them. Carl felt a thick bubble of discomfort spread over his chest, and fought the urge to jerk away.
He dared to look at April. It was the most concerned he'd ever seen of her, the lines of her cheekbones and eyes turned soft. Is this what doubt looked like?
Her lips parted again. "Got it?" She whispered, and he could've sworn there was some sense of compassion lining her brow.
He nodded.
The hard edges of her features returned, and her lips fell into a thin line. "Vámos, then."
And her knuckles tapped twice on the door.
x x x x x x x x x x
A/N: noot noot here comes your late as fuck delivery of shitty writing yippee
QOTD: holy fuck, that finale. What grinded your gears? What rustled your jimmies? Tell me what you thought.
(Don't look in the comments here if you don't want to be spoiled for 7x16)
AOTD: oh my fucking lord. That was a rough one. The story was done so well though, and that makes the lil writer inside of me flail around like a squirrel on pot. That was So Good.
x x x x x x x x x x
Word Count: 1330
Created 4-3-17
Edited 4-23-17
Edited 6-28-17
Edited 8-18-17
YOU ARE READING
DEVILS ♛ C. G. 〖 #wattys2018 〗
Fanfiction[ c o m p l e t e d ] "She looked like a goddess. The kind that sends cities to their knees in fear. The kind that is never in picture books. The kind that twists people." - - - - - April is a devil. A demon. And above all, she is a...
